


The Doctor's Secret

by New_day



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, First Time, M/M, Murder, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_day/pseuds/New_day
Summary: There's no denying it, Will has a crush on his psychiatrist. When Dr Lecter invites him for dinner, Will accepts the invitation, excited and curious what will happen. But the doctor has secret, a secret Will would never have guessed in his wildest dreams.





	The Doctor's Secret

Will closes his eyes.

The pendulum swings.

_I kill this man for a reason._

_A reason that may seem petty to others._

_But it is good enough for me._

_I open his body with my claws._

_He is still alive, which I enjoy._

_Because he is my prey, and I love to play with my prey before I kill it._

_Because this is my nature._

_I cut out his liver and his heart with my claws._

_I eat the heart raw, tearing it apart with my fangs._

_And take the liver with me to devour it later._

_I display the body._

_I paint it red with its own blood._

_I lay it down on the ground._

_I cover the body with flowers I brought with me._

_Chrysanthemums._

_Tulips._

_Primroses._

_Roses._

_All of the flowers are blood red, like the body._

_This is my gift to you._

_I want to share everything with you._

_My kills._

_My passion._

_My love._

_I love you._

_This is my design._

***

“You really believe me, Dr Lecter?” Will is looking incredulously at the psychiatrist sitting opposite him.

The doctor smiles. “Of course I do, Will. Why shouldn't I?”

Will sighs. “Well, Jack, Price and Zeller didn't. Apparently, they thought I was going insane. I can't blame them. But I know it's true. I know I'm right. The killer- he has a- dual nature. He's both animal and man. Not like Tier, he's not psychotic, he's not just imagining or wishing it. He's- different. He's something entirely other. I don't understand it myself, but I'm sure I'm right.” He sighs again. “No wonder Jack and the others thought I was crazy.”

“You most certainly aren't, Will,” Hannibal says emphatically. “On the contrary, you are more lucid than most people and you have a unique perspective and insight of the human mind. I believe every word you said.”

Will finds himself smiling at his psychiatrist, who smiles back at him. It's incredible how important Dr Lecter has become to him in the last months. At first, Will didn't even like him, but just found him annoying and intrusive. 

Jack Crawford made him see a psychiatrist after Will had been forced to kill Garret Jacob Hobbs to save his daughter's life. Before this incident, Will had always refused to be psychoanalyzed. Due to his empathy disorder, many professionals in the field of neuroscience and psychology took a great interest in Will, but all he had ever wanted was to be left alone by them.

However, Jack Crawford made it clear that Will had no say in this matter. If he wanted to continue working for the FBI- and Will did, because despite everything it cost him, it still made him feel good to have an impact, to save lives- he had to see a psychiatrist. After killing Hobbs, Will had become even more unstable than he usually was, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Jack.

Will soon came to realize that Dr Lecter was different from every other psychiatrist he had ever met. He was unconventional, to say the least. He was not judgmental at all, to a point that he avoided any moral evaluation. Will became aware of this when he confessed to Dr Lecter that he had liked killing Hobbs because it had made him feel righteous and powerful. The doctor seemed pleased, yes, downright happy about this revelation. What is wrong with him? Will wondered. This definitely shouldn't make him so happy. Shouldn't he tell me that it's wrong to feel this way? That one should value every human life, no matter whose, especially if one happens to work for the FBI? But still, he couldn't help but be glad about Dr Lecter's support. Not being judged made Will feel less conflicted, and he finally came to accept his feelings about Hobbs' death and wasn't ashamed of them anymore.

Dr Lecter has been an even greater help after the incident with Randall Tier. The severely disturbed young man, who was suspected of brutally murdering a couple, suddenly showed up at Will's house one night. Will still doesn't know how the killer found him. Tier attacked him, and Will killed him with his bare hands, beating him up and snapping his neck.

Afterwards, he sat on the floor, shaking, not knowing what to do. Without even thinking about it, he called Dr Lecter. The psychiatrist came to Wills house as quickly as possible, and Will hugged him and cried in his arms.

“I murdered him,” he sobbed. “I killed him, with my hands. And- I liked it. It was even better than killing Hobbs. I've never felt so alive and so happy in my whole life. I'm a monster.”

“No, Will, you are a survivor,” Dr Lecter said, holding Will gently. “I know what monsters are. It was self defense, you had no option. It's only natural to feel alive and happy after surviving an attack like this. Don't berate yourself for the delight you feel.”

Will knew that this was only partly true. He might have acted in self defense- which was of course what he told Jack Crawford when he finally called him- but he had clearly enjoyed killing Tier a bit too much. He could have killed him with his gun, but decided to use his bare hands. Because he wanted to. Because he knew it would be more- fun that way. A more intimate and enjoyable way of killing. And something told Will that Dr Lecter knew, that he was aware of Will's true feelings. But despite this, or maybe because of this, Dr Lecter's words and his closeness felt oddly comforting to Will.

Since that night, their relationship has become...complicated. At least Will feels that way, he doesn't know about Dr Lecter. Being with the psychiatrist, talking to him, looking at him, smiling at him... makes Will nervous. It makes him stumble over his words, makes him blush, makes him avert his eyes uncomfortably.

To put it simply, he has a crush. He has a crush on his psychiatrist. This feels very confusing to Will because it has been a while since he has been attracted to somebody, and he has never had a crush on a guy before.

Will wonders what to do about it. Wonders if Dr Lecter might reciprocate. Sometimes it seems that way, but Will is not sure. Besides, he knows that it's highly unethical for a psychiatrist to start a relationship with a patient. But who knows, maybe Dr Lecter wouldn't even care, given how unconventional he is? 

“How did it make you feel?” Dr Lecter asks, interrupting Will's thoughts. “How did it make you feel to see the body, Will? And what are your thoughts about the killer?”

Will thinks about this for a moment, then he stands up and starts to pace the room. It's easier for him to think without Dr Lecter sitting opposite him and looking him in the eye.

“I felt- an understanding. Which isn't unusual, of course, given my empathy disorder. You know I can empathize with anybody, even with killers. But this killer- as I said, he's different, it's as if a part of him isn't even human. There's the animal part, which kills instinctively, which wants to hunt its prey, play with it and kill it. And the human part, which enjoys performance and aesthetics, the part that put the body on display. The part that presented the body as a gift, as a token of affection. The flowers were meant to signify love and passion, as well as the color red. All of this seems wildly insane, though I would argue that whoever did this is not insane or mentally ill in the clinical sense. He defies these human categories because he isn't entirely human. And even though I know that I can emphasize with humans, I'm surprised that I'm able to empathize with a- creature like this as well.”

Will looks at Dr Lecter. Does he imagine it or does the doctor's glance really linger on his body for a moment before he looks Will in the eye? Will wonders for about the hundredth time if Dr Lecter might be attracted to him as well or if this is just wishful thinking.

“That's very interesting indeed, Will,” Dr Lecter says. “However, I must say that I'm not surprised by your ability to empathize with this- creature, as you call it. You are far from an ordinary human being, after all. You are unique.”

Dr Lecter gives him an appreciative smile, and Will can feel his cheeks redden. “I suppose one could say that, Dr Lecter. Though I often wish I were just an ordinary human, like everybody else. Sometimes, my empathy disorder and everything it makes me see and feel seems like a curse to me.”

Dr Lecter nods. “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams.”

Will sighs, thinking about how killing Hobbs and Tier made him feel. “Yes. The crime scenes I have to analyze- I often feel haunted by them. I can't get the images out of my head. Sometimes I'm afraid that working for the FBI is changing me, turning me into something that scares me.”

Dr Lecter gazes at him intently. “Perhaps this is not so much about changing, but about realizing who you truly are, Will. Or who you could become if you decided to follow your true nature. If you followed the urges you kept down for so long, cultivated them as the inspirations they are, you’d become someone other than yourself.”

Will can't hardly believe his ears. “Are you telling me I'm supposed to be inspired by killers and become a killer myself, Dr Lecter?”

“Is that what you would like me to advise you, Will? Is that what you aspire to?” The doctor looks at Will expectantly.

“Of course not,” Will answers quickly, wondering if it was a mistake to confess to the doctor that he had liked killing Hobbs and Tier. “Why would I aspire to become a killer? I'm surprised that you're even asking me this, Doctor. It seems unethical for a psychiatrist to ask a question like that.”

Is it just his imagination or does Dr Lecter seem slightly disappointed? “If I offended you, I apologize, Will. I certainly didn't mean to overstep my boundaries. However, I must admit that I've come to see myself more as your friend than as your psychiatrist. I've been wanting to ask you for a while if you'd like to join me for dinner at my house. I'd like to discuss your state of mind in a more intimate setting, not as doctor and patient, but as friends. I'd be delighted if you accepted my invitation.”

Will stares at Dr Lecter speechlessly. A more intimate setting? What is that supposed to mean? Did his psychiatrist just ask him for a date? Or does he merely want to be friends, like he said? I shouldn't be so bad at this, Will is thinking. I'm an empath, after all, it should be much easier for me to figure out what Dr Lecter really wants. But for some reason, the psychiatrist is much more difficult to understand than anybody else Will ever met. There's something about him that's- different, that makes him less transparent than other people. But not in an off-putting, but in an oddly attractive way.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Will hears himself say. “Of course I accept. I'm looking forward to it.”

Dr Lecter smiles. “As am I. How about the day after tomorrow at eight?”

***

Will takes a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

He can't remember the last time he has been so excited. He is wearing his best suit, he tamed his unruly curls and even took off his glasses. He hardly feels like himself anymore. What am I even doing here, he is wondering. What is going to happen? What do I want to happen? Will isn't sure about that yet, but he knows that he has to find out. He rings the doorbell.

Dr Lecter opens the door, smiling. “Good evening, Will.” He gives his patient an appreciative look. “You really look beautiful today.”

Beautiful? Will can feel his cheeks flushing. Well, I guess that answers my question, he is thinking. Dr Lecter is flirting with me. I suppose this is really supposed to be a date.

“I- I'm...” He stumbles over the words, not knowing what to say. “Thanks for inviting me, Dr Lecter.”

“My pleasure, Will. But as I said, I've come to regard you as my friend, not as my patient. I would like to ask you to call me Hannibal, if it suits you.”

Will nods. “Sure...Hannibal,” he mumbles, cursing himself for his own self-consciousness.

***

Hannibal's house is just what Will expected: Extravagant, excessive, artistic, in a unique and beautiful way, like the doctor himself. Will thinks that he should feel out of place, but he feels oddly comfortable and at ease instead. When he sits down at the table opposite his host, his excitement disappears and is replaced by a strange feeling of calmness. He looks at Hannibal who is smiling at him. He's feeling the same, Will is thinking. Suddenly, Will is sure of that, and not just because Hannibal complimented him for his looks. Will knows that Hannibal likes him as well. And he realizes that there's nothing to be nervous or anxious about. He knows that Hannibal reciprocates his feelings and that he can trust him. Will is curious what will happen, how this evening will turn out.

“This liver is delicious,” he says, smiling back at the psychiatrist.

“Thank you, Will. I'm glad that we are finally having dinner at my house. I really enjoy conversing with you. I've been thinking about the case we discussed. The case with the killer who has, as you phrased it, a dual nature.”

The case? That's what he wants to talk about? Will can barely contain his disappointment. 

“You said the body was a token of the killer's affection,” Hannibal adds. “Do you have any idea who was meant to be the recipient? What do you think, Will?”

Will is wondering hopefully whether for an unconventional psychiatrist like Hannibal talking about a killer's declaration of love might be some kind of foreplay. “I have no idea who the object of the killer's affection might be,” he answers. “I can only speculate. I suppose it's someone who the killer wants as a partner because he considers them his equal. Another killer, probably.”

“Someone he deems worthy of his love, ” Hannibal says with a wide grin, showing his pointed teeth.

Will nods. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Isn't that what we are all looking for, Will,” the psychiatrist asks gravely, giving Will an intense look. “An equal, someone who understands and accepts us, who knows the worst and the best of us, someone to cherish and to love? I have been looking for this person for a very long time, and I think that I finally found him.”

Will just stares at Hannibal for a moment, taken aback by the bluntness of his words. Love? He hasn't allowed himself yet to use this word for his feelings, but he realizes that it's true. He's in love with Hannibal, and the psychiatrist's words leave no doubt that he is feeling the same for Will.

Hannibal stands up and walks over to Will's chair. He looks down at Will affectionately and reaches out to caress his cheek. “I love you, Will.”

“I love you, too,” Will answers, looking up at Hannibal, realizing that this is the first time he ever said these words to anybody. Hannibal smiles, cups Will's face and kisses him softly.

***

Will knows he will remember every single second of this night for the rest of his life.

Hannibal, kissing him, talking to him in a soft voice, declaring his love in English, French, Italian and a strangely beautiful language unknown to Will. 

Hannibal undressing him, Will undressing Hannibal, tearing apart his fancy shirt and vest. Hannibal's muscular, well-built body, Hannibal's erection pressing against Will's stomach. Hannibal's hand stroking Will's cock.

Somehow, they end up in Hannibal's bedroom, in Hannibal's king size bed. Yes, Will knows he will remember this forever. Hannibal, looking up at him, smiling and practically purring with contentment while Will slowly pushes into him. Hannibal with his lips on Will's cock, swallowing and licking off Will's seed as if it's the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. Hannibal biting Will's neck and fucking him, with hard, relentless thrusts that render Will helpless, making him scream for more, making him beg Hannibal to fuck him deeper, harder. Making him feel like an animal, mounted and claimed by its mate.

“I love you, Will,” Hannibal says again when they finally lay in each other's arms, both panting. Will wants to reciprocate, but before he can answer, he falls asleep, feeling happier than he did ever before in his life.

***

When he wakes up, Will realizes immediately that something is wrong. 

It seems as if the whole bed is vibrating, and there's a soft, steady sound next to his ear. Sleepily, Will looks around, yawning. Where's Hannibal, he wonders bewilderedly. He is nowhere in sight, all Will can see on the bed is this big blanket, brownish-white, with darker spots, obviously made of fur. Will is sure this blanket hasn't been there last night.

He takes a closer look and freezes. This isn't a blanket, he realizes. This is a- cat. A gigantic lynx, to be precise, about the size of a grown-up human, with pointed ears and fluffy, brownish-white fur. It is lying curled up on the bed, with its eyes closed, seemingly asleep and purring softly.

Will jumps out of bed, screaming, staring at the strange animal.

The lynx opens its eyes.

And Will knows.

He knows these eyes, and he knows they are not the eyes of an animal. Suddenly, he knows everything.

Will watches in terror how the animal's features change, its body twists, its body hair disappears. Watches an animal change into a human, watches a creature disappear and a man emerge. The only thing that remains are the eyes. Hannibal's eyes.

Finally, the lynx has disappeared completely, and Hannibal is lying on the bed again, looking up at Will who is standing a few feet away, staring at his lover in shock and disbelief.

“I must apologize, Will,” Hannibal says. “I didn't mean to scare you. I wanted to prepare you for this, but unfortunately, I sometimes change into my animal form while I'm asleep, especially when I'm extremely exhausted.” He smirks and winks at Will.

Finally, Will finds his voice again. “You- you are...a monster,” he whispers.

“This is a rather rude and offensive way to put it, Will,” Hannibal replies, still smiling. “I personally prefer the term shapeshifter. Or werecat.”

“Shapeshifter? Werecat?” Will repeats disbelievingly. This it it, he is thinking. It's happening, I'm finally going insane. But the man who just appeared in front of him doesn't seem like a hallucination. He's definitely real, as well as the marks he left on Will's skin last night. Will can still feel them, and he knows he has to come to terms with this. He has to accept that there is a reality he hasn't been aware of so far, a reality in which creatures like shapeshifters and werecats apparently exist.

Hannibal nods. “Yes. Centuries ago, my kind used to live all over Europe, in large numbers. Werewolves, werecats, werebears. But unfortunately, we were driven almost to extinction. When I was just a boy, my whole family was murdered, by humans who feared what they didn't understand. I was the only survivor.”

“Well...I suppose their fear wasn't exactly unfounded,” Will snaps. “You are a killer, Hannibal. I know. I know you killed that man we talked about yesterday. You killed him, you ate his heart, you painted him red with his own blood and you covered the body with flowers. You did this. For me.”

“Yes, Will,” Hannibal replies softly. “I did. I'm glad that you finally understand. He was my gift to you, to make you see. I hunt my prey, I kill it and eat it because that's my nature, that's who I'm meant to be. And though you are human, you are also much more. You are 'something entirely other', just like me. We are both different, unique in our own way, and we are both meant to kill. You told me that you enjoyed killing Hobbs and Tier. I understand, because I feel the same about killing. I see you, Will, like nobody else can. I want us to be together, I want to make love to you, and I want to hunt and kill with you. Stay with me, Will.”

Will stares at Hannibal. This is crazy, he is thinking. I've just watched a cat turn into a man, and now this man-cat who I happened to have sex with last night is practically proposing to me. I should run away as fast as I can. But he knows that he won't, that he can't after what happened last night. It was beautiful, and Will knows that he loves Hannibal, no matter what he is, and that he wants to stay with him. And he can see it, can see them hunt, Hannibal in his animal form, Will beside him, killing people who deserve it, who committed horrific crimes, but escaped prosecution. And Will knows that this is exactly what he wants.

“I am going to choose our prey,” he says, and Hannibal smiles.

“I'm not opposed to that. On the contrary, Will. I'm delighted that you wish to participate.” Slowly, in his graceful, cat-like way, Hannibal walks over to Will and embraces him. Will is leaning against Hannibal and chuckles softly, suddenly realizing that there's one thing that strikes him as really odd about all this.

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I ended up with a freak like you,” he says, stroking Hannibal to show him that he doesn't mean to offend him. “After all, I've never been exactly normal myself. Actually, I wouldn't really be surprised if you were a werewolf, but- a werecat? This so weird, I just can't believe that I fell in love with a fucking cat. I've never even liked cats, I've always been a dog person.”

Laughing, they look each other in the eye before sharing a deep kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hannibal's animal form looks like a (huge version of) this animal: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eurasian_lynx#/media/File:Lynx_lynx2.jpg
> 
> I suppose this was probably quite strange, but I just couldn't get the image of Will waking up in the arms of a purring big Hannicat out of my head and had to write a story about it. :) If Will were a werewolf, Hannibal would definitely be a werecat. He is even compared to a cat by Alana and Chiyoh, and Hannibal's head-nuzzling in the final scene seemed so cat-like to me that I could practically hear him purr.


End file.
